


i was never cut out for prom queen

by goandneverlookback



Series: prom queen au [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Eating Disorders, F/F, Growth, Light Angst, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goandneverlookback/pseuds/goandneverlookback
Summary: inspired by beach bunny's prom queentwo loners find each otheri'm bad at summaries okay? I'll fix it when I get some sleep
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Series: prom queen au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125269
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	i was never cut out for prom queen

**Author's Note:**

> For K, who inspires me and entertains my stupid ideas <3
> 
> This one is a little more chilled out, a little more coherent. For more angst and less plot, check out wish i was like you

Bright red nails drum against the counter as she eyes the clock. The minute hand ticks past and she hums to herself, hands flowing through the movements of making two cups of tea, milk and sugar in each. She softly pads down the hall to the bedroom door she nudges open with her toes.

"Babe," the long haired blonde sitting on the bed looks up from where she's been picking at the guitar on her lap. The wrinkles between her brows soften at the sight of her girlfriend. No, her _fiance_. She sets aside the guitar and gently reaches to both the girl and the tea she offers. The smaller of the two hands over the soft pink mug before picking up a handful of papers covering the bed. Boxes line the walls, some labelled, some not, some full, some neatly packed, some mostly empty or haphazardly filled with items no longer needed. She takes a seat on the bed and Trixie immediately scoots closer to lean her head on Katya's shoulder. "What did you find?" She feels Trixie shrug against her as she sighs.

"Just songs I jotted down the chords to years ago." Katya looks down at the top sheet in her hand, the lyrics bringing memories flooding back.

_Shut up/ count your calories/ i never looked good in mom jeans_

Nineteen year old Trixie Mattel sits cross-legged on her bed, handwritten chord sheets sprawled in front of her. Her fingers dance across the guitar settled on soft thighs, her voice mingling with the string sounds in a gentle melody filling the dorm room. The sound reverberates back into her ears, washing the day away. In the privacy of her bedroom, it's alright to let the tears trail through meticulously applied makeup. If they're going to stare, going to judge, might as well give them something to look at, right? Draw the attention up to her face, away from her body. Not that it always works, not that she doesn't still want to crawl inside and hide away at the hungry glances of men dragged up and down her body. She was never ashamed of her body until she began to understand the attention that came with it. The judgemental leers of the girls for growing up without the pressure to be thin. The lustful ogles of men who'd never listen to a thing she has to say. And out of all of them not an ounce of human connection. She tells herself she's okay this way, that it's best to be alone, where she doesn't have to worry about if she wants who she's supposed to. The thought nags at the back of her mind, reminding her she'll never be anything more than a disappointment. Unnatural. Sinful. And so she plays. She plays and plays and plays until the clock ticks past midnight and for the sake of the people whose rooms share walls with hers, she sets the guitar aside and lets the soft sounds of Dolly Parton lure her to sleep.

_Wish i was like you/ blue eyed blondie, perfect body/ maybe i should try harder_

Shaky hands reach for her headphones as she flops back onto the bed, eyes squeezed tight against the tears that threaten to emerge. But Katya Zamolodchikova doesn't cry. She turns the volume so loud it almost hurts, drowning out the thoughts racing around her brain. Do they think she doesn't hear what they say about her? Or do they just not care? She knows she doesn't fit in, not with their preppy clothes and their positive attitudes. They don't think she's smart enough to be studying science at a collegiate level. They look at her dark clothes and her dark eyeliner and the bags beneath her eyes and they make their assumptions and accept them as their truth. Black painted fingernails probe against her rib cage, pressing into the divots, grasping the edges so hard it almost hurts. A ravenous hunger yawns open inside of her, but hungry for what? Her appetite has all but disappeared, and if there's one thing she can control it is her body. What it takes in and the miles and miles it puts out on the dark pavement after the sun sets. The steady drumming of her feet on the ground and the beat in her ears eases the anxiety coursing through her at the idea of another day spent around people who at best want nothing to do with her. Tomorrow she'll wake up and do it again, the brisk morning air blowing through her hair and settling her mind enough to start the day. But right now she asks her body for forgiveness for the overexertion and the undernourishment she puts it through, exhausted enough to curl under the covers for at least a few short hours.

_I'm no quick curl barbie/ i was never cut out for prom queen_

She dresses carefully in the morning, long legs clad in knee high socks, a pink dress gently hugging her soft curves. She steps back and looks in the mirror, finally satisfied with the image she's created. A glance at the weather has her reaching for her trusty denim jacket, heavy enough to stand up against the brisk fall winds. One last glance in the mirror and she heads out the door. Just one gen ed class this morning and she can return to the safety of her room and her guitar. It'll be okay.

_Dissect my insecurities/ i'm a defect, surgical project_

The morning comes too early, her heart already racing as she's pulled, gasping, from her broken sleep. A short run in the morning, when it's too cold to break a sweat, and she's back, trembling with cold as she reaches to make coffee. Black on black on black with no effort to hide the dark shadows beneath her eyes, brighten the gauntness of her face. She leans in close to rim the bottom of her eyes with a worn black pencil before shying away and avoiding the mirror entirely. She laces up her boots and makes one more cup of coffee to take with her as she heads out on the brisk walk across campus. At least it's just gen ed, she thinks. Time to thaw out with no active brain engagement. It'll be alright.

_If I'm pretty, will you like me?_

Trixie drapes her jacket over the back of the chair before sliding into her seat, pulling out the materials for class and gazing over them. She sits three rows from the back. Not the very back, because professors know how to call out the people sitting there, but far enough back to be overlooked by most everyone else in the room. Movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention as someone slips into the seat beside her, folding herself as close as possible to the edge of the row. She doesn't mean to stare at the girl, who seems to quiver uncontrollably as she sets a notebook on the desk and immediately draws the cup of coffee into her chest. Her sharp cheekbones are nearly windburnt from the biting cold this morning, cheeks sinking in further as she wraps her lips around the opening of the thermos. The girl crosses her legs and seems to try to fold in even further on herself and Trixie's heart tugs.

_Teach me how to be okay_

She nearly jumps out of her seat as something heavy drops around her shoulders, wrapping around her arms. Katya whips her head to the side and there's...a girl? With a soft smile across her full face, soft brown eyes full of a warmth it's been so long since she's felt. Her eyes drop to the jacket dwarfing her torso. The girl in front of her shrugs, cheeks dimpling as her smile grows ever so slightly.

"You looked cold." Katya swallows past the lump of anxiety in her throat as she nods.

"Thank you." Her voice comes out barely more than a hoarse whisper, dragging across vocal cords that haven't been used in...she could lose herself in the honey rich tone of the girl staring back at her.

"You look cute in my jacket. I'm Trixie." She holds out her hand, steady, warm. Katya reaches out her own, bony and dry, trying to still the tremors coursing through to her fingertips. Trixie grasps it in hers and the feeling reverberates through Katya like a shock.

"Katya." 

_I don't wanna downplay my emotions_

She takes Trixie's hand in hers, twisting the engagement ring back and forth. Six years ago neither would have imagined they'd and up here. Katya buries her head in Trixie's neck as she hears her sniff, the memories of being so, so alone still feeling so raw at times. She feels Trixie's fingers wind into her hair, grasping ever so gently. It was Trixie who convinced her to chop it all off to her collarbones, brought her face out of hiding. It was from Katya that Trixie learned how not to give a fuck, how to be unashamedly herself. Not a day goes by that Katya wouldn't willingly lose herself in the soft fullness of Trixie, but it isn't such a stark contrast to Katya's frame nowadays. Trixie tugs the empty mug from Katya's hand, setting both of theirs aside before firmly nudging her to lay back, sitting on her narrow hips and pinning her to the bed. The giggle that ripples up from Katya's chest sends warmth in Trixie's ears to radiate through her whole body.

"Baby, come on. We still have things to do if we want to get you moved in tomorrow." Trixie leans down to steal a kiss before rucking her head under Katya's chin.

"But I'm comfortable right here." Katya can't help but grin as she wraps her arms around Trixie. Right now feels perfect, settling into each other and reminiscing on how far they've come. And so she doesn't push. The sound of Katya's heartbeat lures Trixie to sleep, her sleep even breaths in turn luring Katya to the same. Tomorrow can wait when they're looking at forever.

_I wanna be okay_

**Author's Note:**

> much love <3


End file.
